


i'll be out of sight dear (know that i'm right here)

by covo728



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, So yeah, Swearing, adam is alive and well cuz i love him, buckle up buttercups here we go, dang a lot of aus, not beta read we die like men, thats it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 15:29:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15710043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/covo728/pseuds/covo728
Summary: Soulmates share each other's eyes. Their emotions flow through unexplainable bonds that have been around since the universe came to be. No sciences or maths could explain them; they just were.Lance has been trying to figure out his soulmate ever since his first Vision, and his soulmate was not making it easy. He was determined to meet them, but his hope was slowly being overshadowed by another, more disturbing thought: did they want to meet him?Keith knew his place in the world. The outcast. The lone wolf. The sole survivor. The only one who didn't seem to leave him be was his soulmate. They were the only unpredictable thing in his life, constantly pushing, constantly interfering, constantly meddling in his perfectly content life. But perhaps they were just what Keith needed.





	i'll be out of sight dear (know that i'm right here)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello hello! Thank you all for joining me today! This is my first fic, whoop whoop, so I'm eager to test my skills out on you. And with a show that I have utterly fallen in love with, Voltron. I hope you guys enjoy, and don't be afraid to comment, I thrive off of hearing you guys scream at me. However, if you cross that line from constructive criticism to harassment, I reserve the right to block you. So just, like, don't do that? Please? 
> 
> Okay! Enough from me, I'm boring. Enjoy!

The first time Lance saw through his soulmate's eyes, he was five.

It was nothing extraordinary. He had been chasing his friend Claire around the playground when suddenly the jungle gym in front of him became a rusty mountain, and the rubber ground beneath his feet became arid desert sand. The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight. A slight breeze blew the few patches of grass scattered across the plains.

In his peripheral, Lance could catch glimpses of other young children playing with jump ropes and toy cars in the dirt, kicking up sand and lining their sneakers with grime. Their chatter jumbled together to form incoherent sentences, but the carefree lilt to their tones suggested that they were enjoying themselves.

Lance tried to catch a glimpse of his soulmate in the brief moments he could see through their eyes. He gathered that they must have been in school, what with the other children playing nearby. Yet he got the sense that something was… different. No one was talking to them. They were a good distance away from the rest of the other kids. Like something was keeping them out of the group.

Maybe they got in trouble and they’re in time-out? Maybe they’re not feeling well? 

Whatever the reason, Lance still wanted to see more. He needed to see more. He wanted to know what their name was, what they looked like, where they lived. He wanted more.

The desert began to fade from his eyes. Lance clung desperately to the scene even as it began to slip from his grasp. When the last drop of color had faded in his mind, Lance could only see black. He heard someone calling his name, and opened his eyes (which he distantly realized he must have closed at some point after he began to see through his soulmate’s) to find Claire and a group of his friends gathered around him. When he told them of the desert, the class started to clamour for more details. Lance was the talk of the (very tiny) school for the rest of the evening.

That had been Lance’s first Vision. To anyone other than Lance, it seemed the most typical, boring Vision one could have. But for Lance… it was magical. 

.-.-.-.-.

Lance had decided that the desert was the most unmagical place in the world.

It was hot. Like, way, way, way too hot. He could handle heat, generally. Being Cuban, it was in his blood to handle heat. However, being raised in the comfy suburbs of New Jersey, he had only needed to deal with it once each year. Not to mention that every place you went, there was a fresh burst of air conditioning to greet you when you walked through the door. 

Somebody must have missed the memo here, because the ungodly heat that permeated every inch of Texas was never thwarted by such a measly thing as air conditioning. It managed to force its way into every building, choking the air out of every person residing there with its dry feel and dirt taste.

The desert was also lacking in what Lance considered to be an essential component to human survival on this planet: water. Not drinking water, but ocean water. Lance had grown up around water. The ocean has been his best friend since before he could walk. If Lance and his family weren’t at work or school, they were at the beach. At least, in the summer. In the winter months, they bought memberships to indoor pools. It was never the same as the ocean, but it was a decent substitute.

Down in Texas, there were people who had never seen the ocean before. How, he wondered, could someone have never seen the ocean? 

People were also… well, unfriendly didn’t seem like the right word. They were kind, and they knew each and every one of their neighbors, and what their daughter was doing this weekend, and who was away on vacation, and hey, did you hear about Russell’s dog, how he ran away and how Sara and Kyle found him wandering around in Mrs. Alba’s backyard, but they only found him because they were back there making out, and now Kyle’s forbidden from coming within fifteen feet of the house otherwise Mr. Alba’s going to call Sheriff Carlos and ask him to haul kyle down to the station?

The tight-knit community wasn’t what bothered Lance. What bothered him was that the town was small enough for it to be that tight-knit. He was used to a relatively large town, with three or four high schools and hotels next to gas stations next to a McDonalds. Highways that would crowd with cars when vacationers decided that it was time for a trip down the shore. What he wasn’t used to were the small streets that would only clog up if a special event was happening in the center of town, causing the many townsfolk to either walk or drive down to the statue of some politician in the 1800’s to see what all the fuss was about.

If Lance had known what kind of unpleasant experiences he would have in Texas, he would have been less inclined to enroll in Garrison University. But ultimately, he would have come anyway. Because, despite the dry, desert air, and the sinful lack of saltwater, and the teeny tiny town, there was one thing that Texas had that no other state did: Hunk Garrett.

When Hunk said that he would be enrolling in Garrison University to become an engineer, Lance knew where he was going. He went online, searched for the dance department that Garrison University was slowly building up - it specialized in automation, like cars and speedboats, and more recently rockets, but they were trying to branch out - he informed his mother that he would be leaving for Texas at the end of the summer.

Now though, as Lance sat (well, more like melted) in the eighty-five-degree heat at Castle Altea, he was beginning to reconsider if his love for his friend had been enough to balance out the loss of his beloved ocean.

“Dude, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Just having a heatstroke, Hunk, don’t worry. I’ll be dead in a few minutes, just continue on with your evening.”

“If you die next to my salad, I’ll be forced to meme you.”

“Pidge! You wouldn’t dare!” Lance shot up from where he had been slumping in his seat to send a glare over the table. Pidge merely adjusted her glasses and shrugged, never taking her eyes from her computer screen. She had a Multivariable Calculus test tomorrow, and had been almost impossible to drag from her dorm room that evening. Eventually, the promise of iced coffee had persuaded her, though not without complaint. Hunk had looked at him in a physics majors, am I right? sort of way, and that was that.

“Seriously Lance, you okay?” Hunk put a hand on his shoulder, a small crease between his eyebrows bunching up his face.

Lance gently shrugged him off with a small smile. “Yeah man, I’m fine. It’s the heat. What I wouldn’t give for a dip in the Atlantic right now.”

A voice sounded behind him, startling him from his nostalgia, “Talking about the ocean again, I see.”

A fresh glass of lemonade was set in front of him, ice chinking against the glass as beads of water dripped down the side. Next to him, Allura wiped her hands on her jean shorts. Normally, she would be wearing an apron, but she had forgone it in favor of a simple pink tank top with “COFFEE=LIFE” printed on the front and simple blue jean shorts, a pair of white converse completing her look. Her hair was tied back to keep it out of her caramel face, but a few white locks managed to sneak past her hair tye, and hung loosely in front of her sparkling blue eyes.

Lance smiled at her. “I’m always talking about the ocean. I did grow up right next to it.”

“Which you kindly remind us every day. If you like it so much, why don’t you marry it?” She grinned mischievously, which Lance and Hunk snorted at.

Pidge shook her head sadly. “You’re about ten billion years too late with that joke, Allura. Never thought you’d sink that low.”

Allura swatted at her head. Pidge squawked indignantly, slapping Allura’s hands away. “Anyway, what are you guys up to today? Going to the festival, or is that just for us old-timers?” Allura asked.

“Hell yeah we’re going! It’s got everything a college kid could want- rides, games, food, drinks-”

“Loud music that’ll give you a migraine…” Pidge interjected, but Lance chose to ignore her.

“And most importantly - DANCING!” He finished.

Hunk groaned. “I forgot about the dance-off. We’re going to have to deal with a whole swarm of Lances instead of just one.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lance responded, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense.

“It is,” came a chorus of replies.

With that, Lance commenced falling inelegantly off of his chair and plopping on the concrete with a grunt. “There. You’ve killed me.”

“Thank God, I can finally stop planning your murder. I really wasn’t looking forward to jail,” Pidge quipped, still typing away at her laptop.

Lance sat up to deliver his own witty retort when a sudden image came unbidden into his head: a paved road, with shrubs sparsely dotting the landscape on either side. Mountains rose up in the distance, scraping the blue, cloudless sky with their peaks.

Air was rushing past, and he could feel the wind whipping his hair back, even as it fought against the goggles resting snugly on his head. He really should be wearing a helmet, but the feeling of wind in his hair was too good to pass up. The feel of the engine purring underneath him was familiar, as were the handlebars in his hands. It was just him and his bike. His speed increased.

A profound sense of joy accompanied this Vision; it wasn’t just joy either- it was freedom. Away from all the people in town, he could let loose and be himself.

He never felt more alive

It was rare that Lance got to glimpse such a personal moment in his soulmate’s life. They were always so distant whenever Lance managed to peak into their life, and the connection normally closed off quickly with a distinct edge of discomfort, and a smaller, though still a distinct bit of fear. 

Lance knew barely anything about his soulmate. Through the few Visions he got, he knew that it was a guy, that he lived in the desert, that he rode a motorcycle, and that he had a brother.

All of these facts had been discovered by quickly devouring every single detail of every single Vision that Lance had ever seen. Which was what he intended to do with this Vision as well.

He scanned his view for any street signs that could indicate where his soulmate was. Nothing immediate stood out to him, so he moved on to landmarks. Maybe a mountain he could find on the internet? If he scrubbed through Google Maps enough, maybe he could find something. But nothing seemed to be overly obvious. Just random mountains that could be any random mountain in any random state in the whole random country of the USA (he only knew his soulmate lived in America because he had had a Vision of him saying the Pledge of Allegiance at school).

Finally, he searched for any physical features. This time, he actually got lucky. The side mirror, though angled behind him, offered a glimpse of black hair. The goggles (which were brown, Lance noted) obscured both his sight and the face of his soulmate. 

That was all the data Lance was going to get. His heart sank. Even after all this time, he kept hoping that maybe, just maybe, his soulmate would just tell him who he was. Of course, Lance would have told him everything about himself if his soulmate didn’t cut off the connection before it had really even begun.

He could feel the exact moment his soulmate realized that Lance was there. The feeling of joy diminished slightly as discomfort and anxiety wormed their way into his consciousness. The motorcycle slowed considerably, and the sudden blackness that invaded his Vision was the only warning he had before the connection was cut completely.

Lance sighed wearily and opened his eyes. He had taken to closing them whenever he had a Vision in order to capture every detail in more vivid focus, the distractions of the outside world minimized. Allura was looking at him strangely, and Hunk had a small, sympathetic smile playing across his lips. Pidge glanced up once from her laptop, raised an eyebrow, and then looked back down at the monitor.

“Anything good this time?” Hunk asked. Lance shook his head.

“Nothing that would help me identify him. I saw a little bit of black hair in the side mirrors though. And I still couldn’t get a good look at his bike either, just the view from the driver’s perspective.” Lance pulled himself up from the ground and sat back in his seat.

Allura’s eyes widened with understanding. “Oh! You had a Vision?”

Lance nodded. “Yeah. But don’t get too excited,” he added at Allura’s little squeal, “he doesn’t like to share too many details with me. I don’t even know his name.”

“Oh,” Allura visibly deflated, but had the courtesy to mask her disappointment with a smile, “well, what do you know?”

“Not much.” He admitted. “Along with the black hair, I know he rides motorcycles, that he lives in the desert, and he has a brother. But that could be literally anybody.” Lance sighed in frustration, running his hands through his brown hair. It was getting kind of long, he really needed a haircut. “It’s… not much to go on.”

A hand fell on his shoulder. Lance looked up from his moping to see Hunk smiling at him. “But it’s still something. Come on, man, we’re literally in the desert right now! You have a better chance meeting him here than back in Jersey. Isn’t that why you decided to enroll in Garrison in the first place?”

“That and you. Don’t sell yourself short big guy. Bros before hoes.” He extended his fist for an obligatory fistbump, which Hunk gladly obliged.

“You guys are cute. It’s disgusting.” 

“Rude, Pidgeon! I’m allowed to be cute with my best bro! Right, Hunk?”

Hunk nodded solemnly. “'Tis essential for bro survival.”

“Not in front of my salad it’s not.”

This time, Allura joined Lance and Hunk in groaning at Pidge. Pidge shot them a small, sly smile before returning to her work.

Allura rubbed Lance’s head before walking away, calling over her shoulder, “I gotta get back to work, text me when you get to the fair, we can meet up!” with a little wave. The trio responded with some variations of “of course, see you later!” as Allura disappeared back into the small shop.

“Actually, that reminds me,” Pidge glanced between the two of them before continuing, “I was hoping we could meet up with my brother and a few of his friends.”

“The more the merrier!” Lance cheered. Pidge threw a crouton at him.

Hunk checked his phone. “We should head back. I’ve still got to finish up an essay for English Composition.”

“I thought you finished that?”

“Nah, I got distracted with baking cookies.”

Pidge’s head shot up. “Cookies?” 

“You can have some when we get back.”

Lance had never seen Pidge move so fast in his life.

.-.-.-.-.-.

Keith pulled into his driveway around six in the afternoon. Tugging off his brown leather goggles and fixing his black hair, he walked his motorcycle into his garage, where it had its own designated spot amongst all the tools and machinery. As was fitting for the most important object that Keith owned

His ride had started off nice enough. Wind in his hair, goggles snug on his head, the purr of the Milwaukee Eight 107 engine below him. The desert had passed by in a blur of dirt browns and pale greens that were nearly indistinguishable as sparse grass and desert hills. No one else had been on the road, which let him free to do power wheelies and biscuit eaters to his heart’s content. He even managed to do a few switchbacks, clumsy as they were. Keith could practically hear Shiro scolding him from all the way back at Garrison.

But, of course, his joyride was interrupted when a certain someone decided that it was a good time to pop in for a quick visit. Had Keith not been so distracted with landing his wheelie (he may be good, but slipping into autopilot while doing stunts was still a ways off for him) he would have surely noticed the intrusive presence in his mind sooner. As it had been, he only noticed because he could start feeling extra bursts of anxiety that were not his own. 

That always happened when his soulmate was looking through Keith’s eyes. People normally described their soulmate as ‘friendly’ or ‘loving’; Keith’s soulmate was focused and determined. There was always a tinge of apprehension there, but normally it was washed away by the stubborn tenacity in his soulmate’s mind, prying into his head to discover any shred of personal information they must so eagerly crave. 

And, perhaps, that was what irritated Keith most.

A crash from somewhere inside the ramshackle house next to him shook him from his thoughts. He rubbed at his jaw absently, noting that his teeth hurt from grinding them so much. It was becoming a habit to clench his jaw when something aggravated him, which meant he was almost clenching his jaw. He’d need to work on that.

Practically tripping over all of Shiro’s tools by the workbench, Keith picked his way to the misshapen wooden door towards the back of the garage and pried it open, adding another scuff mark to the wall behind the door. As Keith stepped up into the house, another crashed echoed throughout the shack, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes as he stepped into his residence.

The shack certainly didn’t look any better on the inside than it did on the outside, which is to say, slightly rundown and in need of a few repairs, but well- loved and homey all the same. The walls were wooden, as were practically everything else inside. Pictures from much happier days hung from nails that had long since rusted with age. A rug decorated the hallway that branched off into the kitchen and living room, where one could find a well- used leather couch and coffee table waiting in front of a flat screen TV that Shiro had saved from the dump and nursed back to health. It still had its off moments, but Shiro assured Keith that it would always pull through, in the end. 

Keith to the room to the left, leading him into the kitchen. And froze.

The kitchen had seen better days.

A bowl was tipped over onto the plastic countertop, and was spilling… something onto its surface. Flour was everywhere, and if Keith didn’t know better he would say that it had snowed. A few measuring cups held liquids that Keith deemed to be biohazards. An egg was cracked open on the edge of the sink and was slowly dripping onto the wooden floor. The oven beeped helpfully as a small red light blinked in and out of existence on its surface, indicating that its contents had been successfully cooked, but was being ignored in favor of a much more pressing matter: the stove.

It was on fire.

Keith screeched and lunged back into the garage to tear the fire extinguisher off the wall and ran back towards the kitchen, colliding with another man in the hall. Both only spared a glance for the other before racing into the kitchen. The man from the hall threw two cups onto the burning stovetop, which only angered the flames more and caused them to jump higher into the air. Both men shrieked at an embarrassingly high pitch, and Keith nearly dropped the fire extinguisher as he fumbled with the nozzle. 

“What are you waiting for? Put it out!”

“I’m trying, the pin’s stuck!”

“Well unstick it!”

“I’m TRYING-”

Keith finally managed to pull the pin, and the trigger unstuck. He squeezed, and a wave of white sprayed the stovetop, covering it with smoke and gas. 

A whole minute passed, during which Keith continued to sweep the nozzle across the stovetop, afraid the fire would start back up if he stopped. When he finally did let up, the stove, oven, and countertop on the right side of the room were bleached white, and no sign of fire remained.

He took a moment to collect himself, taking a slow, deep breath, before turning to the man beside him. “Adam. What. The fuck.”

The other man looked sheepishly down at his shoes. He was in his casual outfit: jeans, sneakers, and a grey T-shirt that fit snugly over his chest and arms. He wasn’t as muscled out as Shiro, but he still could hold his own, with a lean build and legs that stretched endlessly. He stood about half a head taller than Keith, but could never be mistaken as formidable, with a quick, bubbly smile ready to spread over his rich walnut skin. But at the moment, the smile had been forgotten in favor of a small frown as Adam rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I wanted to make dinner for you guys. There was some chicken in the oven, and I was gonna fry some vegetables on the stove. And… and I tried to make a cake, but…” Adam trailed off and pointed towards the bowl on the counter, absently pushing up his glasses and swatting his dark brown bangs out of his eyes. The bowl’s content was slowly spreading on the countertop, mingling with bits of carrots and broccoli as it conquered its way across the plastic surface. Keith slowly turned his gaze back to Adam and sucked in another breath.

“Okay well you can start cleaning the stove, and I’ll clean the island, and we’ll meet at the sink. And then I am putting in a frozen pizza, and forgetting this ever happened. Deal?”

Adam nodded. “Just don’t tell Shiro? I’d hate for my fiance to find out I nearly burned down his house. Again.”

Keith snorted. “He signed up for that when he proposed. Plus, he’s nearly burned the house down himself, and trust me, it was waaaaay worse than this.” He said, prodding at the lump of dough on the counter.

Their quiet chatting continued as they worked in tandem. Keith managed to safely discard the doughy specimen on the counter, and Adam was able to clean the stovetop without setting anything else on fire. The quiet, methodical work began to set Keith’s mind at ease after the encounter with his soulmate, which still made him bristle with apprehension. Even when he tried to force them out, his soulmate still managed to invade his thoughts. It was an itch that he couldn’t stop scratching.

Do I want to stop scratching?

A barrage of curses distracted him from that dangerous line of thought. Adam was peering out the front window of the house, cleaning rag still in hand. He rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.

“What is it?” Keith asked, shoving Adam over to make room for him at the window. A small dust cloud was drawing closer with each passing second, and Keith could hear the distant rumble of a cor engine. Shiro’s car engine, to be exact.

“Shit, he’s gonna kill me!”

“Adam, Shiro couldn’t kill you even if killing you would stop world hunger, so stop freaking out,” Keith told him, giving him an awkward pat on the back before returning to the island counter jutting out from the wall. Adam still didn’t leave the window, even as the car pulled into the driveway and parked on the gravel. A car door opened and shut, and the door to the garage squeaked as it was pried open. The next moment, Shiro stepped into view.

Keith’s brother could be considered imposing if you didn’t know him. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and held not an ounce of meat on his bones that weren’t muscles. His posture spoke of calm discipline that had been instilled in him as a student at the University, but his lopsided grin ruined the image of a steely soldier. His eyes shone with a small flicker of mischief, and the crinkles that formed in the corner of his eyes belied a friendly demeanor that no strict school could ever beat out of him. It all came together with his hair; a black crew cut with a small tuft of white hair in the front, something his teachers had loathed at the University, but that Shiro had refused to cut off.A sign that he wasn’t completely under the University’s thumb.

From his position in the doorway, Shiro blinked at the disaster zone that was their kitchen. Flour still littered the floor, white foam still coated a significant portion of the stovetop, and egg continued to ceaselessly drip onto the floor.

So much for a quick clean, Keith thought to himself.

“Um… care to explain why the kitchen looks like a bunch of toddlers ran through here?” Shiro asked dryly, gesturing to the room.

Adam shared a look with Keith that begged for assistance, but Keith held up his hands and backed away. “He’s your fiance, not mine,” Keith said.

Shiro shot a glance at Keith, but focused his eyes back on Adam. His gaze immediately softened, and Keith could have sworn that Shiro looked less like a lion and more like a baby kitten whenever he and Adam were in the same room.

Adam tugged at the hem of his shirt before taking a deep breath and resolutely squaring his shoulders, lifting his gaze to meet Shiro’s. “I was trying to make you guys dinner for when you got home, but I’m a lousy cook, so I wound up burning the chicken, spilling the cake batter, and burning the vegetables on the stove. Keith showed up, and he managed to put out the fire, but there’s no dinner left, so my efforts were for nothing.”

When the rambling ceased, Keith found a soft smile slowly spreading across Shiro’s face. “You nearly burned the house down just so you could make us dinner?” He asked. Adam’s cheeks reddened.

“Um… yes?”

Shiro barked out a laugh and reached for his fiance, pulling him in for a quick, chaste kiss. Adam sputtered for just a moment before succumbing to Shiro’s touch, all but melting into him.

Keith groaned. “You guys are gross. Get a room.” He said, turning back to the countertop. From behind him, he could hear soft laughter, and he gave a one-fingered salute behind his back.

“Alright, let’s get this cleaned up so we can watch Game of Thrones. I wanna see Dany kick Jaime’s ass.”

 

An hour later, the three men were huddled on the couch, Adam resting against Shiro’s chest, and Keith curled up in the corner. Plates of pizza lay forgotten on the coffee table as they stared in wonder at the TV screen.

“Are you shitting me? That’s how the season ends? We binged this shit just so the goddamn Night King could tear down the Wall?” Keith threw his empty Coke can at the screen. It bounced off and landed harmlessly on the floor. 

Shiro sat up, Adam grumbling as he shifted off of him. “To be fair, Dany shouldn’t have gone down there in the first place. Neither should John. Stupid battle strategy.”

“But the dragon just fuckin’ took the spear! He could’ve, I don’t know, moved?!” Keith could feel his face heating up. It did that when he got really passionate about something. And sue him, he was really passionate about Game of Thrones. 

“Okay, before you start throwing pizza at each other, may I remind you that we’re meeting Matt and his sister at the festival tonight? I’d rather not show up with bits of cheese stuck in my hair.” Adam said, standing up from the couch and collecting the garbage from the table.

Keith whipped his head around. “Wait, we’re going to the festival?”

Shiro nodded. “Yeah, I promised Matt we’d be there, so suck it up Keith, you’re going.” He shot a look at Keith as he moved to help Adam clear the table.

“Shiro, you know I hate stuff like this. Crowds of people just… aren’t my thing.” Keith crossed his arms over his chest defensively. Of all people, Shiro knew best that Keith hated anything with more than five people involved. And this? This had five hundred people involved.

A reassuring hand fell on his shoulder, and he looked up at his brother. “I know, Keith. It’ll just be us, plus Matt and Pidge. You’ll have fun, I promise. And if things get too hectic we can back out, I swear. But just try it. Please?”

The puppy dog eyes. Always with the puppy dog eyes. He sighed, pushing Shiro’s prosthetic arms from his shoulder. “Okay, yes, I’ll come.” Shiro’s face broke into a wide grin, and Keith pointed a menacing finger at him. “But if I get tired of it, I’m leaving, period. No ands, ifs, or buts. Got it?”

“Yeah bro, I got it.” That stupid smile was still on his face, and Keith began to feel as if he just signed his death warrant. “Thanks.”

Keith waved him off and stood, brushing pizza crumbs from his black jeans. “I’m gonna regret this,” he mumbled.


End file.
